


Astrology and Ignoring Responsibilities

by Sybariticfanfiction (SybariticReyna)



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Dovah is Gender Neutral, Dragonborn Reader, Even tho a lot of this takes place in bed there is no sex, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, If I tag enough can I make up for not having a summary, Marriage Proposal, Multi, Nords just Do That, Sharing a Bed, Skyrim is Cold dudes can you blame them, dont get your hopes up, theyre like 'damn I like this person lets get hitched'
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-02-10
Packaged: 2018-09-23 08:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9648545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SybariticReyna/pseuds/Sybariticfanfiction
Summary: I think I've been writing so much Skyrim bc 1) playing a lot of oblivion 2) listening to Hamilton which for some reason makes me think of Skyrim. So does All Time Low?Anyways,,, thank you for reading! !This is part of a series but instead of a continuation of this fic, I plan on doing sorta similar fics with different people of Skyrim. bc personally, I love courting and getting to know fics and pining... Pining is so good omgSo if you got a character you wanna date and /then/ marry, feel free to request them! !Thank you again! ♥





	

The stars are wrong.

Like. Very wrong.

But they are also very bright. You can see each and every one with perfect clarity, even though you have no idea what they're supposed to mean. There's not even a North Star (that you see, at least. You suppose Tamriel's could just be smaller).

Not to mention the double moons. One that could almost pass as your moon, while the other is huge and colorful. You didn't even know moons could be colorful! If only you could google this shit. Like, how is it colorful? It is the rock itself? Is it a type of gas?

As fascinating as it is to think about, the fact remains its wrong. The whole sky. Wrong.

You never realized stargazing could make you homesick. It's only been two months. You shouldn't feel like... Like someone punched you in the chest every time you think about home.

You don't even think its the place you miss, or many of the people, if you're honest. It's... The unfamiliarity. You feel like a fish out of water on good days. Everything in Tamriel is so _different_.

Even the weirdly honorable mercenary group you're supposed to be joining makes you "prove your honor" by grabbing a chunk of some old weapon for goodness sake! What happened to regular old hazing? Why can't they just send you on some weird dare?

Not to mention the fact that werewolves are a thing, which they didn't think to mention until Farkas was forced to shift in front of you. Werewolves! What's next? Vampires? Some kind of lich?

Being a "Dragonborn" yourself, you guess you shouldn't be as startled by this information as you are, but its... It's a lot to take in in a very short amount of time.

Maybe you should visit High Hrothgar again. Who cares if they don't expect you back until you get the Horn? You just need time to absorb this.

"Are you okay?"

You startle at the sound of Farkas' voice, just barely preventing yourself from grabbing at your bow. "I'm..." You begin, only tapering off when you glance at your companion.

He looks worried, and you're very acutely aware of what he would assume you're so worked up about. Saying "I'm fine" will just make him feel bad.

"We only have one moon and the fact that Tamriel has two is really fuckin me up." Your accent, the one you try so hard to pass off as Cyrodiilic, becomes decidedly otherworldly with stress. But thank god (whichever really) that it doesn't crack.

Farkas' worry seems to melt into plain ole confusion. "One moon."

"Yeah. An' it's silver, and... smaller." You make a circle with you thumb and forefinger, holding your hand up as if the visual will help. "I mean I guess it doesn't really matter but its just. Still really weird for me. Being here." The sentences are disjointed and awkward, but its Farkas. His presence neither soothes nor worsens the ball of anxiety in your chest, and as strange as it sounds, you're thankful for it.

He's silent for a moment, either considering your words or trying to picture only one moon. "Do you miss it?"

You could lie, make it easier on yourself. But the idea of lying to one of the few people who has welcomed you makes you feel guilty for even considering it. "I don't know. Skyrim is... Nicer, and god do I feel disloyal for saying that. Obviously its got its problems, with the dragons and the civil war and stuff but... I don't know."

You have the words to explain, they're right there in your head, but trying to say them out loud is harder than you anticipated. Skyrim is beautiful and wild while your home is industrialized and cruel. Even the harsh training with the Companions is a piece of cake compared to staying up at night trying to memorize formulas and crying. Skyrim lets you learn what you want to learn, from cooking like they do to smithing and fighting. You probably wouldn't have ever known you were such a natural back home!

And the people are so much more genuine. Even when you grumble about everyone asking you for a favor, at least you know what they want. And, if you're being completely real, the lack of catcalling is amazing. The Guards might be subpar at dragon fighting, but they will crack a fucking skull if a drunk says something lascivious.

The lack of modern plumbing certainly leaves something to be desired, but you can deal with that. Besides, those soaps from Valenwood are the best smelling things you've ever had. Even better than LUSH. Although Aela always makes a face when you come back from a bath, claiming your natural scent smells better.

 _Wait a minute_. Your eyes narrow. "Is Aela a werewolf too?"

Farkas barks a laugh (pun most definitely intended). "How did you get from your home to Aela?"

"I was comparing Skyrim to my home and remembered Aela complaining about how often I bathe. Which, by the way, is actually less than I used to. Aela always says I smell better natural, and while I have no idea how sweat could be nice, I assume the scent thing is a werewolf thing?"

"The scent thing is a werewolf thing." He repeats. You're not sure if he just likes the way you worded it or he's confirming. "The Circle all have beast blood."

"So, you, Vilkas, Aela, Skjor, and Kodlak?" You purse your lips. "Huh."

"Reconsidering joining us?" His worry makes a reappearance, and you raise an eyebrow.

"Why? It's not like you're a different person just cuz the cats outta the bag. Well... Bad analogy, but the point stands. You're still Farkas. Although if you ever--" you feel you should be tapping his chest to dig the point in, but tragically, walking side by side doesn't allow such drama-- "make me worry like that again, Farkas, I'll kick your ass seven ways to Sunday."

Farkas' smile could cleanse poison. "What had you so worried?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe the five guys intent on murdering you?" You huff, although your irritation is fading with every second you maintain eye contact with Farkas. "Most people could not handle that very well."

"You would." He says, dead sure of this fact.

Flustered, you throw out the first excuse that comes to mind, "Yeah, but I'm Dov--"

Farkas fixes you with a sharp glance, and you wonder how you ever thought he was human. His eyes reflect for gods sake! "You're what?"

You take a deep breath and hold out your hand. "Pinky swear you won't tell anyone?"

He snorts in an attempt to not laugh, but complies with your request. Your pinky is tiny compared to his, which makes the actual "swearing" awkward, but hey. You can't complain when he agrees to humor your strange customs.

"I'm Dovahkiin."

You can see the instant Dovahkiin registers in his mind. He's silent for a moment, eyes sweeping your figure as if this new information could change your appearance. "You're the one who killed the dragon."

'The dragon' could be one of many, but you assume he means the one closest to home. "Betcha I can knock you down with a Shout." You offer with a smirk.

Just as expected, Farkas' eyes narrow with the challenge. Nords are so proud, even when they're staring down one of their own legends. "What are we betting?"

"If you remain standing, I'll do seven days of cooking duty in your stead. But if I win..." You leave it up to him, just to be fair.

"I'll go on your next mission with you?" He offers.

"Only one?" You pout. "Come on, Farkas, I ain't that insufferable, am I?"

He rolls his eyes. "Don't get ahead of yourself, New Blood."

* * *

Above you, the stars are just starting to come out. One moon is already in full view, and although you know Vilkas told you their names, you can't remember which one is which (or hope to pronounce their old Nordic names).

It's still fairly early in the evening, but the sunlit hours are getting fewer and farther between as the seasons change. You take a bit of solace in that, strange as it sounds. At least daylight savings are still a thing. The sun steals the warmth as she departs, leaving you shivering and wishing Farkas wasn't busy.

You roll onto your side, watching him dutifully skin the bear that had, rather unfortunately for itself but very fortunately for the two of you, tried to start something. He had promised to teach you how to skin things at a later date when you mentioned your cluelessness on the topic, but both of you agreed not right now. The sun is already low in the sky, and subpar lighting isn't good for learning how to correctly hold a skinning knife.

A shiver that shakes your frame reminds you of why you looked at Farkas in the first place, and you wonder if he'd be opposed to keeping you warm. Ria and Aela aren't, but then again, you don't have a crush on either of them (well, maybe a tiny crush on Aela, but you're pretty sure everyone has a little bit of a crush on Aela).

The fire is closer to you than Farkas though, and for a moment you worry he'll catch cold, but then you remember he's a Nord. They're basically impervious to the cold.

"Farkas?" You hum.

His fluid motions halt for a moment, gold eyes glancing over at you curiously. "Yes?"

For a second you debate asking if his wolf is acting up, but that sounds like a very long conversation. "What's your starsign?" You ask.

He cocks his head to the side, watching you curiously. "The Steed."

"...actually, what's your birthday?"

"The twenty sixth of Second Seed. That's what Vilkas and I decided on when we were kids." He's mentioned that the two of them were found by Jergan and brought to the Companions, but not anything else. You suppose it's just too personal. 

You take a moment to count which month that would be for you, "May? I think that'd be May then, right?" 

"It's the fifth month." 

Then it's May. You nod. "You guys do celebrate birthdays, right?" If you had the energy, you'd probably make a big deal out of it just to get Farkas to laugh, but hey. You're tired.

"Not usually. Sometimes for special birthdays. Vilkas and I had a celebration when we turned twenty. I can't remember much." He gives a faint smile at the memory.

You try not to let said smile distract you as you mentally go through the list of zodiac signs. January is Capricorn... Aquarius, Pisces, Aries... "Wait, did you say twenty six. Like. Are you fucking with me?"

He laughs as he returns to skinning. "Not at the moment."

"You're a Gemini." You can't help but laugh, pressing your hand against your face in amazement. "Oh my god. Oh my _stars_." You can't believe this.

"A Gemini?" He replies.

"Yeah. Okay, so like all the signs have an association like Capricorns are water goats, and Sagittarius is the bow and arrow, whatever. Guess what Gemini's are."

He pauses again, "...A wolf?"

"Although that would be pretty funny, no. Even better." You wait until he glances up again to reveal, "Gemini's are the twins."

Farkas snorts in an attempt to stop himself from laughing, while you cackle with delight. "Isn't that amazing?" You say. "I should've known. Vilkas is like type A Gemini. You've always struck me as a Capricorn though so I was never sure..."

"How is Vilkas more Genimi than me?" Farkas' voice takes on that tone that you've come to associate with explaining things. While he might not be as bookish or talkative as his twin, he is a very good listener. He lets you babble on about your home and your adventures outside Jorrvaskr without complaint.

"There are other things that could affect it, including what time you were born, but since you choose your birthday I guess that's unimportant. Of course, you'd have to believe the stars affect personality in the first place. Genimi's are known for being chatter boxes, always speaking their mind and being nosy. They're also known for duality, which is where the twins bit comes in. He's pretty curious too, right?"

"Yes. Although he doesn't like to admit not knowing." Farkas replies.

"I used to have the same problem." You say, watching him return to work. He'd probably be done at this point, if you hadn't distracted him.

"When?"

"Before Skyrim. The whole adjustment period sorta forced me to suck it up though. The last few months have been one big learning experience." You answer. "If I hadn't joined the Companions I don't know what I'd be doing."

"You'd still be the Dragonborn." He offers.

You snort. "I would've died of hypothermia. And lack of werewolves."

You don't need to see it to know he's rolling his eyes. "I don't think you can die from a lack of werewolves."

""I don't think" isn't very convincing."

"Okay, I'm _certain_ a lack of werewolves generally keeps people alive longer." He corrects jokingly. "

"Unless the werewolves love you." You retort. "Then they defend you from bears. You know how much I suck at killing bears without liberal use of Shouts?"

"I... First, I would love to see you Shout at a bear." His lips quirk in amusement. "Second, when did I ever say I love you?" Despite the rather harsh words, his smile reassures you he's only joking. Or trying to get you riled up.

 _Oh, two can play at that game_. "Well, _I_ love _you_." You say, giving him your most dazzling grin. The rare sight of Farkas blushing, although half covered by his silly make up, is quite the view. You laugh with delight, bringing a hand up to your mouth as if to cover your reaction. How dare a fearsome werewolf like him be so cute.

* * *

 

Your next mission, rather unfortunately, overlaps with one of Farkas'. He left before you though, and you find yourself hoping he's already returned as you drag yourself up to Jorrvaskr. Breakfast is much more fun when he's around.

It's a little later than you expected to be returning, probably well past dinner, but there was a dragon that wanted to pick a fight on your way back home, and the biting wind didn't exactly help your speed.

The sky is dark dark _dark_ above you, stars covered by a thick layer of clouds. It's _hailing_. Any other day, you'd probably be excited, but at the moment all you can think about is the tiny ice rocks pelting your face and your hands and toes slowly but surely freezing.

You always knew Skyrim was cold, but now on the cusp of winter, you're starting to realize how cold.

You're only too happy to slip inside Jorrvaskr, mindful of both the warm air escaping when you open it and how loudly you close it. There's bound to be a few people already asleep.

There's a number of Companions still at the table when you arrive, making idle chit chat as they drink. Ria is passed out on one of the benches, so you assume everyone else is likewise intoxicated.

Athis is the only one sober enough to welcome you back home, and he does it in his typical Athis fashion of asking why you look so horrible.

"It's hailing, Athis. Hailing." You respond, peeling off your layers of armor and cold weather clothing. You stuff most of it in your bag, only the outmost layers wet enough to warrant hanging them up. You feel another pang of "god do I miss Farkas" as you hop to put your cloak onto a peg, knowing the Nord would have no such difficulty reaching it.

 _Why are Nords so tall?? Why is nearly everyone in Skyrim so tall?_ Their average is over six feet! And Farkas is decidedly taller (and larger in general) than average. His brother is the same way, only leaner.

Athis laughs through your explanation of your latest mission, whether because the client was an asshole and you were very vocal about that opinion, or because he was watching you struggle with hanging up your cloak, you're not sure.

Either way, he tells you to get some sleep after you're done, adding that most of your Siblings are already asleep (or missing the party all together _Aela and Skjor_ ).

You collapse in your bed, pulling too cold blankets around your shoulders and praying you'll warm them up soon enough.

You should've known better than to even hope, honestly.

It's at least an hour of fitful "I'm dead tired" sleep vs "I'm freezing fucking cold" awareness until you decide you're sick and tired of this nonsense.

You still aren't quite sure what led you to believe Farkas was the answer, but in any case, you find yourself dragging your carcass to his room. Your still chilly blanket hangs off your shoulders, making every shambling step feel much more majestic than you're sure it is. And much louder than normal, which you're sure the werewolves appreciate. (By appreciate you mean "hate with a loathing that cannot be put into words")

That's only confirmed when you're greeted by a tired growl when you enter the room. The dragons within prickle at that, but you brush them off with practiced ease. "Hey." You whisper, Farkas' warning cutting off. "'M cold."

There's a pause that allows you to wonder what the hell made you think this was a good idea, but he quickly diffuses your panic with a short, "Come here."

Your heart up in your mouth, you settle into his arms. Even lacking his armor, he's still all hard angles, and you find yourself wondering if you compliment him in that sense. You're _soft_ , even after months of training and Skyrim.

He doesn't make a big deal out of you inviting yourself into his bed. If anything, he seems rather pleased. And you were right. He is warm. You can feel it seeping into your bones, gently pushing out the cold.

"Night." You finally say, voice betraying your exhaustion.

"Night." He shakes with silent laughter, obviously trying not to embarrass you.

 _As if his laugh isn't a gift or something lmao_ , you think tiredly.

You very clearly remember scolding yourself for using short hand in your own head before you finally got to sleep, the dragons a mix of "short hand is a wondrous thing" and "how uncouth". Dragons are so picky when it comes to linguistics.

You wake up with your face pressed into Farkas' neck, allowing you to feel it when grumpily (very grumpy, given the curses) tells someone we're still sleeping. You really like the sound of that plural, and combined with Farkas cursing, you can't help but smile in amusement. They swear quite a bit actually, but it still takes you by surprise given how proper they act.

From the other side of the door, you can make out the sound of Ria snapping, "Fine, but you're the one who has to face Aela's wrath."

You seriously doubt Aela would be anything but super excited to see you in bed with Farkas, given what a staunch cheerleader she's been. Although, maybe cheerleader isn't the right word. _Aggressive stan_ might be more accurate. Odd, considering you've never actually admitted to crushing on him.

"Did you just tell Ria to fuck off?" You ask tiredly, words slurred together with sleep.

He gets the gist though, given the laughter. "Go back to sleep." He punctuates his sentence with a yawn. You only just notice his hand pressed against your back when he pulls you closer, and while some small part of you says _this is so intimate why aren't you scared????_ most just appreciates the warmth. Warmth and Farkas.

Deciding he has a point, you close your eyes again.

You think you fall back asleep, but its the strange in between state where you're aware of being sort of awake and the basic things around you. Like, you couldn't tell you what time of day it is if Alduin himself demanded it, but you know when Farkas shifts onto his back and that one of your knees has somehow ended up uncovered.

You are just barely awake enough to notice when Aela peeks her head in. You can only imagine what the two of you look like, snuggled up the way you are. Farkas' face is buried in your hair, each breath threatening to make you shiver. It's weird, but not unpleasant.

Farkas doesn't seem to notice her appearance, but you just know she'll fix that in a minute. You squint at her with annoyance, and she flashes a wolfish grin.

"Don't." You mouth the word, but you're sure she understands. She's just mean.

"So what have we here?" She says, loud voice no doubt ringing throughout Jorrvaskr. You have the Voice on your side and sometimes you think she can still out do you.

Farkas flinches at the sound, arm curling around you protectively and a growl building in his chest. Unlike the sleepy warning growl you received, this one is... Meaner. The human part of you is just a tiny bit terrified, while the dragons are humming with delight.

 _He wants to protect you_ , they say happily. _What a good mate_.

You tell them to chill.

"Calm yourself," Aela seems to echo your own sentiment. "I was simply wondering when you planned on getting up seeing as it is eleven in the morning."

You stretch out your legs, noting that one of your thighs still hurts a bit. Probably from slipping on the ice. That kind of sudden, violent motion tends to fuck up your muscles. "Ouch." You hiss, face twisting up. "Ice is such a pain in the ass."

"Literally?" Aela taunts. You're not sure when she started mimicking your speech, but honestly, its endearing as all get out.

"I slipped, so yeah. And I was freezing cold on the way back, doubt that helped."

Aela looks like she's got something to say about that, but a reproachful glare has her keeping quiet.

As least, until you manage to disentangle yourself from a still groggy looking Farkas (who looks significantly less groggy when you kiss his cheek) and make it out to the main hallway. "What?" You ask. 

"Coulda asked Farkas for a massage, you know." She teases lowly, hip checking you.

"We didn't-- do anything." You huff.

Her smug grin drops in shock. "You didn't?"

"No. I was cold, and I don't know, I just ended up there? We were just cuddling. Not that it wasn't nice. It was really nice, actually." Your voice betrays your vulnerability.

Aela's expression mellows as she considers this, and you picture her mentally going over Farkas past... Lovers? Girlfriends and boyfriends? You're not quite sure what the correct Skyrim Terminology(trademark pending) is, but you do know it makes you feel weird to think about his previous partners.

You wonder if he'd be weirded out by your lack of previous partners. It's not like you're a complete newbie, but this feels... What you feel with Farkas is different. You've never had someone you can say, without a doubt, would defend you with their life. You've never had someone who looks at you like Farkas does, curious and patient and fond.

"Ugh." You growl, dragging a hand through your too long hair. You've gotta ask about that sometime.

"I don't... I don't believe that's a bad thing, sibling." Aela finally says. "He's not just attracted to you sexually. He likes you, although I can't imagine why, given your temperament." The last part is said with a grin.

"Because you're one to talk about temperament!" You snort. "You're horrible."

"Watch yourself, whelp. I might have an extra nasty mission for you, if you keep that up." She threatens.

There's no actual bite in it though, and you laugh. "If it pays extra you know I'm down."

* * *

 

The next time you speak to Farkas, he says Skjor wants to see you, and while he looks worried, you simply shrug it off with a grin that has him smiling too.

You turn on your heel, knowing Skjor will either be out in the yard or downstairs, but Farkas stops you with a quick, "Hey."

You glance back at him, raising an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"It's still pretty bad outside, with the ice." His grin turns wolfish and you feel a blush on your cheeks. _Oh. Oh goodness. He couldn't possibly be.._. "Make sure you don't go to bed cold. Hear its bad for you."

 _Oh, he most certainly is_. "Is..." You start, bringing a hand up to cover your ridiculous smile. "Is that an invitation?"

Farkas simply smiles even wider. "I wouldn't keep Skjor waiting."

The next time you see the stars, its after tearing your way through Whiterun, still unsteady in your new body. There's no deaths, not that you know of, and the front gate is easy enough to body slam open. Your shoulder hurts, just a bit, but that's fine, your wolf doesn't mind.

Your wolf does mind the smell of the city though, and while your memory gets fuzzy (or maybe you just completely lose yourself to the wolf), they run.

You wake up to Aela's bright smile and aches in places you didn't know could ache, and a sinking feeling in your chest that tells you something's wrong.

* * *

 

Its weeks before you see any Companion but Aela for more than a few moments in passing, but you do your best to not get painfully homesick. You pick the Silverhand camps off leisurely, digging in the point. _You're the hunted now_.

Hircine must be awfully proud of you, because your wolf keeps getting stronger. You feel only the bear minimum of guilt for eating their hearts, especially after seeing what they do to your fellow werewolves. The quick death your claws grant is practically merciful compared to the horrors they inflict.

But you do feel gross when Aela mentions that the other three all want to give up their wolf. You and your wolf both recognize that she means they don't like their beast side. They don't want to be like you or Aela.

You only begin to wonder if you really like if when faced with the ghost of your Harbinger, and his wolf.

Vilkas pulls you against his chest before you're able to escape, as if he knows, and somehow that makes it even worse. Your own wolf is restless, pacing within your mind for hours after you flee the tomb.

It wants to run, as if you can somehow outrun your tangled up emotions.

You just want... Comfort. Your first instinct is to go to Farkas, but he's either still at the tomb or on his way back to Jorrvaskr. He did offer you a bed though, and you haven't taken him up on that offer thus far. It's a tempting thought, a _very_ tempting thought actually, but in the end you decide to simply throw yourself into more work.

It's easy to do, given how many people want assistance from the one and only Dragonborn. You do odd jobs until your body aches and they throw gold at you in gratitude, which you can then throw into building your home. Or, one of your homes, really.

After one "client" gives you a necklace that grants a whole hell of a lot of magicka to its wearer, you also start practicing magic. It's weak, and compared to people with natural magicka reserves you have only a small amount, but its magic! You're doing _Magic!!_

Your wolf seems amused whenever you get overly excited about magic, and you can't help but think that means they knew about magic before you did. You suppose if the wolf is a splinter of Hircine himself that would make sense, but its still very interesting that they know things that you don't.

Speaking of werewolves though...

You have responsibilities as the new Harbinger now, but you ignore them in favor of practicing magic and working and building your home. It's really easy to forget about your problems when you have to concentrate on how the hell you're supposed to make a table.

Of course, you suppose you should've known your Companions would know how to find you. It's not that hard, considering you've mentioned having land over here.

You can smell it as you approach, the scent of a wolf recently shifted. Not Aela, who you know well, so most likely one of the twins. And while your relationship with Vilkas has improved, you doubt he'd come looking for you.

The ground is torn up in front of your door, and while part of you wants to scold him for it, you can only laugh as you picture a giant wolf impatiently pacing as he waits for the transformation to run out.

Farkas is in your kitchen, seemingly in the middle of judging your meat free pantry when you approach.

"We really need to teach you how to butcher." He says casually, as if he's not guilty of breaking and entering, and his heartbeat doesn't jump when he sees you. _Is he nervous?_

"I should call the guards on your ass just for that comment." You respond.

His lips tilt up. "You won't."

You heave a dramatic sigh, flattening your hand on your chest. "I won't."

"You've been avoiding us." He continues, eyes sharper than you think you've ever seen.

"I'm not..." I'm not avoiding you, would be a lie but... "Used to the idea of being the new Kodlack. I was the newbie just six months ago."

He purses his lips, glancing around your nearly complete home (you're only missing the most complicated things, like chairs and a dinning room table). "That's understandable, but I don't think its right to do all this instead of helping. Vilkas can help you figure out all that complicated stuff."

"I know but... I feel like taking his place is wrong. I'm not," You make a vague motion to the general vicinity. "From _Tamriel_ , let alone Whiterun. Shouldn't it be one of you?"

"Me and Vilkas aren't from Whiterun either." He points out, "And Aela was raised in the woods, so technically..."

You try your best not to smile, "Technically none of us are from Whiterun."

He grins. "But its late. You want some help?"

You shouldn't be surprised by Farkas inviting himself to stay the night when you were the one crawling into his bed because of the cold. But it does make your heart race. "I would love some! Do you have any idea how hard it is to figure out furniture making? I mean, they gave me all the instructions but oh my stars, is it more complicated than I thought."

Farkas is happy to help, although he probably does more teaching than assisting. He's better at mechanical stuff, and while you don't exactly appreciate the comparison, he says you and Vilkas both just rush too much.

You eventually just leave him to his devices, because god knows a Nord like himself can't cook vegetarian. The poor thing. You get soup on the boil and a very, very small part of you wonders if this is what being married would be like. You would like to come home to this.

The potatoes will take a while to soften, so you return to Farkas. And by 'return' you mean, you watch him do all the work while you lean against the doorway. "I've been thinking of getting a dog."

His lips tilt up, but he doesn't pause what he's doing. "For hunting?"

"How dare you. I would never take a dog hunting. Unless you count yourself, in which case I would definitely take a dog hunting."

He snorts. "We're wolves."

"They're close enough to procreate, it hardly matters." You roll your eyes. "But speaking of..." You drift off, unsure how to broach the topic of getting rid of his wolf.

"Speaking of procreation or wolves?" He asks with mock confusion, glancing over at you to see your reaction.

You hide your face in your hands, shaking with effort not to laugh. "You're horrible."

He looks awfully proud of himself.

"I meant the whole not-being-a-werewolf-anymore thing." You explain.

"Mmm." He makes a face. "I... Do want to be human again, but..."

"Not right now?" You supply.

He nods. "Soon. What about you?"

"At the moment, I have no intentions of becoming human again. But you've lived with your wolf longer, so, I understand." You try to be flippant, but its too... Too much. There's no way to make killing a part of yourself casual. Your wolf whines at the very idea.

Farkas glances over at you and holds out his hand.

"Is that an invitation?" You laugh, taking the offer before he can answer.

He isn't known for being gentle, but that's the only word you can think of to describe him pulling you down into his lap, against his chest. "Will you go with me?"

"Course." You won't let him go through that alone. "If I do too, sometime in the future...?"

"I've got your back." He presses his lips against your temple in a not-quite kiss. "Always will."

You smile contentedly. "That sounds like a confession."

"And here I thought you were the smart one. You think I let whelps into my bed on the usual?" He teases.

"Oh, I'm sure you do. They just gotta give ya the puppy eyes." You tilt your face up, nose pressing into his neck. A string (from a necklace, probably?) catches on your cheek, and while annoying, you don't mind enough to pull away.

"I couldn't even see your eyes." He laughs. "I could smell your heartbeat though. Got faster when I held you."

Oh my god.

"Well, I could do the same now." You sniff as if to prove your point, although his even heartbeat is hardly as embarrassing as what he just said. Plus, you could already hear his heart given that your ear is right next to a pulse point. 

He shifts, moving so he can see your face. "Hey."

"What?" You reply dryly.

"Love you."

"I love you too?" You say, raising an eyebrow. It's not like you haven't--

Oh.

His heartbeat changed. You don't even attempt to cover up your smile. "Does that happen every time? Oh my stars." You laugh, moving to cup his face, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

It's nothing you haven't said before (to him or the rest of your Shield Siblings), but knowing it has an effect on him makes it different.

"Pretty much every time." He agrees, looking away. He's the embarrassed one now.

"Farkas." You say, pressing your lips together as if irritated. "Farkas, you can't be so fuckin charming, there's food cooking and all I can think about is kissing you."

This makes him smile again. "I'm not the best at time management but I think we can do both."

He's wrong, and there's food stuck to the bottom of the pot by the time your head is clear enough to smell it, but its easily forgiven when he kisses you like that.

By the time dinner is done and you're both sprawled across the master's suit bed the only natural light is from the moons. "We need to buy candles." You say, looking over at the window.

"We need to buy sconces." He corrects. He kept the plural, you note with some degree of happiness.

"Isn't it the same thing?"

He snorts, "Plain candles don't stick to walls."

You suppose he makes a fair point. "You learn something new everyday." He doesn't respond verbally, only sending you a confused frown. "We used electricity for most things back home. Like... dwemer, I guess. They seem to run on oil, so its comparable."

"Mm." He nods, even though his expression tells you he doesn't quite get it.

"Want me to explain or...?" You ask. He's usually quite happy listening to you go on and on, but its always nice to ask.

"Later. I... Have a question, first." He sits up and you nearly go toppling off the bed as a result.

"Christ, Farkas." You laugh. Righting yourself, you make a motion for him to continue, "Come on, now I'm curious."

"This is an amulet of Mara." He grabs his necklace, biting down on his lip when he receives a very confused look in return. "But seeing as you don't know what that means..."

"I do not." You confirm. "Vaguely remember Mara having a chapel in Riften though."

"How do people from your home propose?" He says it like he says everything, without hesitation.

The same cannot be said for you. Your mental facilities freeze and the reboot, thoughts beginning again in double time. "Well.. I mean. You're supposed to have a ring? Or, four rings I guess. An engagement ring and a wedding band for both of us, and since you're the one proposing you're supposed to like, get down on one knee and ask?"

He nods. "Can I ask right now if I plan on getting a ring then?"

"Traditionally, no. But I really don't care about tradition if you're asking me to marry you." You want to kiss him again.

He grins. "I wanna do this right."

You roll your eyes, just wait til he hears about the puritanical beliefs involving sex. Deciding that can be a later or not ever conversation, you say, "Oh! We could ask Eorlund to make them, right? Like obviously he's better at swords but its... Symbolic."

"He'll go overboard," Farkas says.

"Perfect. And besides, its not like I'm strapped for cash." You make a vague motion to the house.

"I'm paying for your ring." He responds sharply.

You raise an eyebrow. "You don't need to. If we're gonna get married we'll share everything anyway."

He shakes his head. "It's a Nord tradition. You pay for mine and I pay for yours."

You huff, "Fine, fine. But if you need more than the Companions salary, we could go dragon hunting together. Their bones and scales are super expensive, and I always hate having to carry them back into town." You do anyway, of course, but nevertheless.

"Vilkas is planning on asking you about that." He responds. "He doesn't like not being able to say he's hunted everything in Skyrim."

"Dragon hunting is a reasonable bonding activity to do with your brother-in-law." You say with the utmost confidence. "Wait, did you tell him you're proposing?"

"No." He shrugs. "Think he knew anyway."

"Because of the amulet thing or because of some weird ass twin telepathy?"

"Twin telepathy." He says matter-of-factly.

You nod. "Of course."

"He's happy for us, you know." He continues. "I think after the Silverhand thing he liked you too, but he wouldn't pursue it because of me."

"...what?"

Farkas looks amused by your dumbstruck expression. "Everyone in Jorrvaskr knows I love you."

"Well, I love you too, but that's a weird thing to tell your fiancé, Farkas! Ya can't just say "dude, my bro also had a crush on you." It's just weird!" You declare.

"I don't see why." He leans forward and kisses you, effectively pausing your scolding. Or, halting it completely. He tastes like the cheap wine you got as a housewarming gift and something distinctly Farkas, and while both of you have chapped lips (thanks, Skyrim), its wonderful.

He smiles when you part, one hand moving to your cheek. "War paint." He explains with a laugh.

You make a face. "Wash it off before you kiss me then."

"If I washed it off every time I wanted to kiss you, I'd never have it on."

Well, who knew Farkas could be such a smooth talker? Despite the blush blazing across your cheeks, you manage to reply, "I have no problem with that."

He looks tempted to say something no doubt even more flirtatious, but then he glances over at the window and says, "It's getting late."

"We're already in bed, what else do you want?" You snort. As if your insomniatic ass can just go to sleep. To prove your point, you lay back down, yanking the blankets over your legs.

"Careful asking a werewolf that kind of question, love." He runs his finger up your back, and although its probably meant to be sexy, it just makes you ticklish.

"I am also a werewolf and you know it." You laugh as you try to grab his hand.

"I do." He allows. _What a time to use that phrase_ , you think.

" _I do, I do, I do_." You sing, laughing halfway through. 

"What?"

"It's a song. And you're supposed to say 'I do' when you marry somebody. Seemed fitting." You shrug. "Although that particular musical ends horribly."

"That's promising." He says.

You snicker, moving one arm to pull him down to your level (you doubt you could've moved him if he didn't want you to though). "As long as neither of us get involved in government bullshit, I think we'll be good."

"Sounds simple enough." He shifts forward, kissing your forehead.

**Author's Note:**

> I think I've been writing so much Skyrim bc 1) playing a lot of oblivion 2) listening to Hamilton which for some reason makes me think of Skyrim. So does All Time Low? 
> 
> Anyways,,, thank you for reading! ! 
> 
> This is part of a series but instead of a continuation of this fic, I plan on doing sorta similar fics with different people of Skyrim. bc personally, I love courting and getting to know fics and pining... Pining is so good omg   
> So if you got a character you wanna date and /then/ marry, feel free to request them! ! 
> 
> Thank you again! ♥


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